


A Question of Scale

by pasteur



Category: Friends at the Table (Podcast)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-15
Updated: 2018-01-15
Packaged: 2019-03-05 14:27:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13389747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pasteur/pseuds/pasteur
Summary: Cass dreams Apostolosian dreams, on the eve of leaving Counterweight. The gang make a new friend.





	A Question of Scale

The throne was made of blue, gray stone, coated in ornate raised carvings of coral and flora. It seemed to absorb the light rather than reflect it, just as the Apokine absorbed everything around them while showing nothing. The face of an emperor carved in stone.

It was from this throne that power, hypothetically, exuded. But it was from the myriad couriers and courtiers that mingled in and out of the throne room that power was passed on, enacted, made flesh in the world. Apostolos was its people, and Apokine was its ruler, constructed instruction, a monument to challenge, the personification of family. These were the tolls that they must bear every day. And so they must be passive, a face wet and dark, scales a muted grey, surveying the people from whom both duty and power derived.

It was from this throne and from this implacable leader that a young child was given advice. "Cassander", they intoned, "I know you have had struggles. Your siblings are great in many ways. And you, too, will be great in your time. The winds of war blow our sweet empire, its fragrance joining the waves of worlds across the sector. But it may be too little; or too much, and you too may be Apokine one day. I would spare this from you if I could. The burdens of the monarch and the burdens of fate are heavy - you must support them as they support you."

Cass looked up, nodded, adjusted their toga and their braid and sniffed to make sure there would be no tears. No tears in front of their parent, here in the seat of power, no tears from fear of failure, no tears from being too young to really understand what was going on in this world. Another sniff. "How do I... do better than them?" Cassander clearly meant their siblings, but they were well-versed enough to know how to speak in the tones of office, in the language of intrigue. It was a broad question, but one they _needed_  an answer to. The Apokine delivered.

"Never forget where you are in the picture. An Apostolosian's advantage is always a matter of scale." Cass kneaded their temples, watching carefully under the watchful eye of their regal parent. "Young one, when they go big, greet them up close and personal. When they go small, escalate beyond their expectations. Change the scales." They tapped their cheeks, which briefly flashed pink with... was it mirth? affection? before resolving back to the statuesque grey duty of station.

 ~-~-~-~-~

 

 Sokrates had left them a clue. A squared off triangle, a long line, a hook at the end. A key? A map? A character in a foreign tongue? While Euanthe trained and Cass stared at the stars, their sibling had studied many, many things. Euanthe looked at the mark closely, sighed, and squinted at Cass, looking for a response. Cassander went flush-still, scales grey, a laudable imitation in miniature of their parent. Euanthe opened their mouth, sneered, and got in their hoplite. _Don't show them anything_ , thought the younger heir. _Keep still, until they are out of sight_.

Euanthe lifted off, skimming above the waves beyond the palace's seaside courtyard, mist flicking off the jets and servos. Cass finally let out a breath, then took a closer look at the clue. Euanthe could get there faster. They both knew that was basically no question. But if Cass could just reach into their sibling's mind, see what Sokrates was thinking... a key to the wine cellars beneath the palace, old-fashioned for an old-fashioned door? Or... where else would you lock something with such an analogue device? Intentions and possibilities moved like a blur past Cassander as they stepped into their hoplite and floated just off the floor. One place stood out, where locking the doors was a ritual, more than a deterrent. The old temple of Apoanta, north, on a separate landmass from the capital.

In an hour the old temple peeked over the horizon, deep red marble old enough that its angles and reliefs were accented pink with age. Old Mottely and the rest of the flak armories would keep this place under their protection, but if worst came to shove the House Pelagios striping on the hoplites should waive them free from any danger. War, after all, had not yet come in person to the Apostolosian homeworld.

Cass clipped their thrusters short and carved a path close to the shoreline, hoping a low, hopping flightpath would avoid detection from either sibling. Avoiding Sokrates was of course less important - part of the game was that they couldn't move. Cass had once spent four hours in an unmilled grain sack in the marketplace before Sokrates had tracked them down. But surprise was always a bonus, and – damn, there in the seaspray was Euanthe, quick as ever. They probably followed the cloak signature of Cass's hoplite the whole way up the coast. It was a good bet that they could outrace their younger sibling even if they couldn't outwit them, and Cass was proud of them for it and frustrated all at once.

At least it would be a competition. Euanthe's hoplite leaned forward, nearly parallel to the seafoam, and shot ahead as the temple's columns came into view. Time slowed for Cass in the exact moment they needed it to. What was the right thing to do, here? A missile strike this close to the temple would be foolhardy, and Euanthe would dodge most blasts they could muster from another hoplite. Outspeeding seemed an impossibility - their sibling was a natural in the suit, and had already overtaken them. Where was Sokrates at this point? What would the key have meant? When they go big, Cass thought, as the seconds began to tick forward once more. Go bigger. There is always a bigger fish. But when they go big... Cass saw the answer in the sun glinting off of the dock in front of the temple, wet wood and stone splaying every reflection a hundred ways. They raced their legs, pumping against the waves and leaned into the ocean spray. As they cracked the surface the suit began to rock, its propellant suddenly pushing down instead of up.

The dark world beneath the waves came into view, and Cass made for the temple's substructure with all of their might and most of their will. While Euanthe would be emerging fron their suit and going through the temple rites as hurriedly as possible to find entrance to its cloister, Cass could avoid the worst of it. They might've made better progress than Euanthe with the clerical staff, more a subtle people person than their martial older sibling, but that was no way to _win_. Finally they found purchase, and jettisoned from the hoplite, kicking it gently upwards so it would float slowly to the surface for recovery later. For now, Cass had one thing to do. Their scales began to glow an enigmatic yellow, eyes tracing the ancient apostolosian script marking the underwater keystones of this temple. The way in was... just a few meters around the corner, a ledge, hidden in the subdiluvial darkness. Cass pulled, victory in hand, Sokrates in reach, and in the dark felt an even bigger hand reach around them as—

~-~-~-~-~

 

 Cass shook their head, brushing sleep from their eyes and their weighted blanket off their torso. That was weird. And not how it went, back on Apostolos. They had won that day. But here and now, blearily, they took in the surroundings of The Kingdom Come.

Mako was missing, which felt odd to begin with. Mako took cat naps anywhere, of course, but from the look of it he had fallen asleep in the middle of sorting his scarf collection by RFID frequency and had then just... wandered off? Cass took a moment to pile the stray scarves back together for Mako to come back to, at least, when they heard a loud "clunk" sound. The ship was still planetside, so repairs were to be expected, especially with the new old engines being adjusted, but this sounded like something heavier. Was someone piloting a mech at this hour?

Cass turned into the hallway and immediately stopped, seeing their bunkmates nearly fluorescent body lurking along the wall to the cargo hold, peering around the corner. Mako still had his typical sleepwear on, his crop top, sweat pants, and flip-flops doing little to camouflage against the ship's metal interior. Cass drew up behind him and tried to assess the situation. "What are you doing?"

"Shhhhh." Mako whispered very loudly. "I'm trying to watch for - there's someone new onboard."

Cass saw a figure they thought they recognized, those big metal arms striking a familiar profile. She was calling out something to Aria, who chattered something back dismissively from on top of the Brilliance's maintenance-cable. "Mako, are you spying?"

"No!" Mako protested, though by that point Cass had him dangling harmlessly by the back of his waistband. "Hey! Let me down you big buffoon, I wasn't _spying_ , I was _investigating_ a mysterious coming-and-goings onboard our ship!"

Mako's answer was convincing, but his feigned indignance did little to help cover his true motives. Cass looked him right in the eyes, and was about to answer when they themself let out a "Wh-hey!". They were lifted two feet off the ground by a large metal hand gripping the back of their collar, and that large metal hand belonged to a large metal arm and a large human face that Cass suddenly remembered in full focus. "Hey. Jacqui... Green, right? Didn't I point a gun in your face once?"

"Huh. Berenice. The Apostolosian. Glad to make your..." Jacqui narrowed her eyes coyly, aware she had the literal upper hand in this situation. "...acquaintance." She lifted Cass up further, tilting her head to try and look the fully-horizontal, floating body of Mako in the face. "And you, little one, you must be the wiseacre?"

"Wiseacre? No, that's my brother, I'm Mako Trig." Mako flashed her a bright grin, and Cass held on as tight as they could to stop him from falling.

"What are you two doing up at this hour?" Jacqui interrogated, looking for a direct and quick confession.

"Well, uh, we, uh, were, uh..." they both spluttered.

"Curious to meet our new guest." Cass volunteered.

Jacqui made a face of comic contempt at the answer, but her smug grin transitioned to shock as she jolted upwards, body draped surprisingly limply from a metal hand in the cargo hangar.

"What do we have here?" Aria's voice purred out from the Brilliance's speakers. "Oh! A little set of teammates, all stacked in a row!" From the grip of the Brilliance clung Jacqui, barking her displeasure at her newfound partner, while from her hand hung Cass, barely in their sleeping jacket, arms taut in sleeves and gripping tight to Mako's waistband, while Mako whistled and gave Aria a big cheer.

"Hey Aria! Your new girlfriend is really strong!"

"She is! And if I gently set you all down now do you think you can all get along? We're teammates, now, and we have to learn to start acting like it."

All three of them nodded in unison. Aria's grin grew wide.

"Good."

 ~-~-~-~-~

**Author's Note:**

> a secret samol gift for @wearyniteowl! special thanks to a_w, the whole FatT crew for making such interesting characters, and luc and kavi for helping me think of apostolosians in new and changing ways.


End file.
